


Angel and Demon

by blumbrr



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angels, Blood, Demons, Heaven, Hell, M/M, Mild Gore, Satan - Freeform, Smexy times, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-06 20:38:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blumbrr/pseuds/blumbrr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is an Angel, kidnapped by Alfred, a Demon. They were not supposed to be one, but through a bitter war and the struggles of two different people, they fight to keep their hands intertwined and their person by his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Bringing it on over from FF :)

Chapter 1:

Mine

When Arthur Kirkland first heard about the demons at the Royal Gate, trying to break in, he couldn't help but start to panic. Demons? Up here? Preposterous. It was ridiculous to believe; geographically, that could never happen.

Above the earth was Heaven, and below the earth was Hell. In between was where the living dwelled. Heaven was the land of angels, the powerful and peaceful beings that protected the mortals that had passed on to a new life. And those mortals were also angels; the only difference was some, like Arthur, were Guardians for a specific family; for instance, he had been granted the duty of protecting the Royal Family of the United Kingdom, his former home and, to him, his true home, no matter where he was located. And now there was a rather large gang of demons, henchmen (and sometimes women) to Satan, wanting to barge in and destroy everything.

With no thought but to stop them, he picked up his bow, checking to see he had enough arrows (perfectly harmless to anyone but demons and the like) and jumped in the air and off the small cliff of clouds his perch was positioned at, spreading his wings and letting himself glide down to where the Royal Gate was. And that's when he looked and saw the demons, Sons of the Dark, as the Guardians called them. Arthur landed as close as he could to the gate and tried to push his way to the front.

When in their demon form, nearly all of them looked similar to humans, as well as identical to one another. Their hair varied in color but was always disheveled in some way; spiraled horns protruded on either side of their heads, either directed down or up. Their skin matched the shade of the moon, lips a rosy, blood red and fangs slightly poking out of their mouths, with their eyes all various shades of red. Where the Guardians, the angels, had beautiful white, feathered wings, demons were bat-like, with three separated points on the top, and felt like leather. But once they transformed into their Beast form, they were faster, stronger, more of a threat, and simply too overcome with blood lust to take them over.

"Arthur aru!"

Yao Wang, another Guardian and best friend of the Briton, tugged Arthur forwards suddenly. His long brown hair was disheveled and messy inside his ponytail and underneath the lightly dimmed halo that floated above his head, gold eyes wide as he stared into his friend's green with panic and fright.

"We need help! Get them to go home aru! They no listen to anyone else! Please aru!" He begged, face clearly showing distraught.

"Yao, relax," he soothed his good friend. "I'll handle this, I promise."

"Xièxiè! Xièxiè!" He hugged the Brit tightly before following him to the front of the gate. Many of the Guardians in the crowd he recognized immediately: the quiet Matthew, the boisterous Feliciano and his brother, the cranky Lovino, and many more than he could ever count. But they let the two through quickly, making a small path for the two before they finally reached the gate. Arthur, ever brave and not afraid of their enemies at all, stood tall (or as tall as he could, at his short height) and glared harshly at the most likely hundreds of demons snarling at him. Yao stood beside him, eyes firm but fear still shown.

"You know you are not allowed on these sacred grounds," the Englishman began, placing his hands on two of the bars on the gate tightly. "Leave now, or else we will have to force you out."

"Oh~, he's a fresh thing," the demon closest to him sneered. He took on the appearance of a normal Son of the Dark, but a mask covered his blood red eyes. "You'd be quite delicious, wouldn't ya Feathers?" The rest of his gang cackled in laughter.

Arthur frowned, eyebrows furrowed in irritation. "State your name and reason for attempted invasion."

The demon, most likely Turkish judging by his accent, chuckled darkly. "Alright; you want to talk business, I see. I am called Sadık, and we would like some Angel Blood."

"Tough aru!" Yao retorted. "You not getting any!" He flinched at the glares he received, but otherwise didn't step away.

"You'd be most delicious," he grinned sinisterly, and gave a sniff towards him. "Maybe get some fried rice or eggroll with your blood?" He rudely laughed, followed by more uproars from the group; Yao only pouted with a frown. Arthur grabbed an arrow from the quiver across his back and aimed it through the bars of the gate.

"One more insulting word and I'm running you all through," he threatened, keeping his eyes leveled with the others. Another demon stepped up close to him, and Arthur resisted the urge to barf at the smell. Demons always reeked of Hell and blood.

"You wouldn't dare shoot any of us," he said in a low, seductive French accent, eyes half-lidded. "Alzough I would love to shoot somezing into zat fabulous little ass of yours."

"That's revolting!" He snapped with a light tinted blush upon his cheeks.

"Ah, oui, but you seem to like it judging by your cheeks, non?"

He tightened his grip and pulled the string back even more. "I will shoot you right now if you don't quiet yourself down." A few more angels that were experienced with fighting, including Yao, followed his lead, pulling an arrow against the string of the bow and aiming.

"Oh~, what an angel, willing to shoot a humble, lonely demon longing for love like moi, just to defend 'is 'ome." He sighed; "'ow lovely~!"

"Arthur growled; "Bugger off, you frog;" and let the arrow fly the short distance—

-only to hit the lock on the gate and undo it, dropping to the ground and letting the gate open.

"Wha-?" His bow dropped in shock as the French demon smirked and chuckled. Most of the Guardians in the crowd gasped, others either preparing to defend their home, experience or not, while some prepared to surrender (Feliciano Vargas seemed to have a habit of doing that, even when he was still living) or stepped back, ready to run.

"Ohonhon~! Merci, cher. Merci."

And with a single push to make sure the entrance really was open, the Sons of the Dark attacked.

Angels flew up into the air quickly, attempting to gain some sort of air distance between them. Some of the Demons transformed to make themselves faster and to catch more meat that way, and in no more than a minute, the gold-and-red blood of angels had started to pour onto their haven.

Yao and Arthur managed to escape together, staying closely side by side throughout the attacking crowd. As they passed, they saw too many of their companions being attacked, and the Englishman couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as he escaped upwards: Feliciano cornered by a silent, threatening-looking man that towered over his shaking, weeping (and surrendering) form; Lovino shouting as a Minotaur plowed him to the ground before changing form back to a demon; Matthew roughly being grabbed and groped by the Frenchman from earlier; Toris, Eduard and Raivis being pursued by a tall demon chanting a strange assortment of words in what seemed to be Russian; Elizabeta captured in the talons of a large, black hawk, yet still fighting, even though it was obvious that she wouldn't be staying in their sanctuary. This wasn't a safe place anymore; this was a complete and utter panic-stricken chaotic haven to madness and pandemonium.

The duo stopped at a high point, landing gracefully and running along the platforms to the armory, where the extra weapons were kept. Both were silent besides their panting breaths and the screams that were heard from below them. But both were far from discouraged; they were determined to fight until they could move no more. And when and if they reached that point, they would still try to battle.

But their plan was disturbed when the platform in front of them was no longer leveled but being flung upwards, bringing the two to a glide through the air uncontrollably. Arthur bounced off a little further from Yao, landing on his side as blood started to pour from a wound on the back of his head. With a groan under his breath, he started to get up, but a clawed hand rested sharply on his arm, digging in but not drawing blood and causing him enough pain to stop moving. When he wondered why he had done that (for some reason, demons had a habit of holding angels with both hands), he noticed Yao lying on his stomach start to push his arms on the ground to get himself up. What his friend didn't notice, however, was the monster coming up beside him with a clawed hand by his side. The Brit gasped and opened his mouth to speak, but the demon pinning him down grabbed his cheeks with his claws to push his cheeks together and silence him. When the blond tried to look behind him to get a good examination at who was holding him down, he was once again looking at Yao, the claws now drawing blood from his cheeks as they forced him to watch.

Yao moaned lightly, rubbing his chin as a thin trail of blood dripped down from his eyebrow. The demon stood behind him now, quiet in his footsteps and dark in his motives. Arthur could tell what was going to occur, and whined to get his face out of the hold, but a dark voice whispered into his ear.

"I wouldn't talk if I were you," he calmly yet evilly mumbled to him. The captured angel inhaled sharply, trying not to tremble out of fear and worry. This was it- Yao would die, he would die, their home would perish-

The demon above Yao pulled his hand upwards, stepping back a bit, and slashed down, carving a deep scar into his back and slicing off feathers from his wings. Instincts took over him as he screamed and his wings unfurled, only to be grabbed by the bloody claw and clipped, one by one. His fingers curled into the platform beneath him, his back arched as his shriek of agony echoed. Arthur, who had shouted with him, started to silently weep, tears streaking down his face as he could do nothing but watch, wanting to look away but unable to. Yao soon silenced down, however, into small choked sobs and cries before passing out against the gold.

The angel holding down Arthur flipped him over so he was lying down on his back, the claws nuzzling into his shoulders and his wings spread out on either side of him. The demon above him licked his lips and chuckled. "You're more delectable than I thought you would be," he chuckled. He looked like most demons, a cowlick sticking up from his blue-black hair and his eyes pale red, an uncommon iris color for demons. The Son of the Dark grinned, licked his lips and leaned in close to whisper;

"Mine…."


	2. Captive

Chapter 2:

Captive

When Arthur next opened his eyes and his nose came in contact with the smell in the air, he knew the worse had happened to him.

All he could remember was the demon straddling him and nipping his skin—too many places to remember, all he knew was that wherever the demon could nibble without much movement, he marked the spot with his fangs—trying to get as much blood as he could from him before the angel passed out. He had tried to fight the monster off of him with all of his strength, but once his garment had been torn open and a sharp pair of teeth chomped on the lone buds of his abdomen, he stopped fighting entirely besides the few pounds onto the demon's back before finally falling into unconsciousness himself. So it wasn't much of a surprise that he would be taken to Hell as a prisoner for who knows how long.

What was a surprise was the fact that Arthur wasn't on a rough surface surrounded by dark walls, or bleeding his wounds out publicly. In fact, when he woke up, he was comfortably lying down on his left side, with his hand beneath his cheek and his wings settled against each other, tucked close to his back. When he checked his body for wounds, any injuries were bandaged up where it was necessary. He blinked back the sleep that had dazed him for who knows how long, and took a half-asleep sweep of his eyes around the room. It wasn't much of anything; just a rectangular opening that acted as a window and a plain, wooden door across from the bed. The smell of the room wasn't too bad, but outside the window…

It was without a doubt that this meant he was a captive now- it being common knowledge that any angel caught by a demon is made one- but he didn't know how to be one. It wasn't that he was dependent on others. He had been independent longer than the United States. But the thing is…he had been a Guardian for so long, that was all he knew after he had died and became an angel. How did you be a captive? Did you do nothing but sit around all day? Were you beaten and used as a toy to your kidnapper's amusement and delight, like how the demons usually treated the angels?

Arthur sat up in near-distraught as the memories that rose to the remembrance of the angels slapped him into reality. The last he could recall, he and Yao had been caught by demons; and there was no doubt in his mind that a majority of those that they knew had also been taken. His home with its beautiful marble blocks of gold and white, its peaceful atmosphere and his sanctuary after death: gone in a painful flash. He was not a Guardian anymore, not after what he had did. He and Yao had betrayed their friends, as well as the oath he had taken. The two of them had decided to worry about their own safety instead of assisting those in need of aid. Arthur himself had betrayed his close, kind, cooking-and-panda-loving, ever-so-joyful friend Yao, now probably dead, with his abused wings and the layers of scars that he most likely had. He was useless.

A lone sob pushed past his lips, and he covered his mouth with his hand, clamping his eyes shut as the tears pushed out into the world, their pale tints glistening against the pale light of whatever object descended light here. He was nothing he was nothing he was nothing he was nothing—

The door was suddenly thrown open, causing Arthur to jump in surprise and let his wings out slightly. The demon that had caught him now stood in front of him, and Arthur inwardly scolded himself at the attractiveness the Son of the Dark had.

His hair was disheveled, specifically on the top of his head and providing a type of camouflage for his horns. His wings were neatly pressed against his back, the tips showing behind his broad shoulders. His jacket and jeans seemed to be covered in layers of dust and grime, mixing in with the stench of Hell that slicked off of him and around the room. His eyes were a pale mixture of red and white, barely on the verge of pink. They had streams of mischief and desire and lust inside of them. All in all, he was a beautiful creature, demon or not, and Arthur blinked in surprise at his sudden appearance in the room.

"U-um, hello," he quietly greeted in a small voice. The tall demon stared blankly at him. He gulped; 'It's alright Arthur,' he tried to convince himself, 'it's alright. It's just a demon who wants me for his own. It's just a demon who wants to hurt me and I'm going to die here. Certainly.'

"Your blood taste good," he stated after their moment of silence. His lips were still a bright ruby shade, and looking into his eyes, the Englishman could see the truth in his words. Arthur blushed, wondering if that was supposed to be a compliment. He didn't know how he should react to it. Angels were always pure and hardly experienced with loving another, for all of them were often pure beings and cleansed of any spite or evil inside of them when they passed on to Heaven. It was the demons that performed the search for something to soothe the needs of lust and sex. Angels were inexperienced with such things. Nevertheless, Arthur decided to be a bit formal and gentlemanly, and at least try to know his kidnapper a bit better. "Er...do you have a name?"

The demon took a step closer to run his fingers along the angel's chin. The touch tickled his jawline softly, like long tresses of hair flowing down the side of his face. Arthur whimpered nearly inaudibly as the index finger's nail extended and curved into a claw, its sharp point jabbing into his chin to pick his head up. He bit his lip as his eyes were poked with water once again.

'Don't let him see you cry. Don't let him see you cry. Don't let him see you cry.'

The claw tilted his head to the side, examining each cheek as if he was thinking which side to try and get blood from first. Another hand, claws tucked away, invaded his shaggy blond hair, combing through it slowly as it fell through his fingers like sand. Green eyes watched as the thumb and middle fingers of the demon's right hand touched the halo above his head gently, toying with it momentarily; the Guardian groaned in reaction, biting his lip to quiet himself. The sensation didn't feel nice, but at the same time, as much as he hated to admit it, it didn't feel terrible. The Son of the Dark stopped his movements, tilting the head back to him and staring into the emerald orbs. "Alfred."

Arthur blinked in relief as the hands wandered away, vision connected with that of the other male. "Alfred…that's a very nice name," he commented.

"You're just like they described you." The demon, now known as Alfred, took a few stray strands of the enslaved angel's hair and tucked it behind his ear. "Blond; emerald; pale. Very pretty angel."

The Englishman blinked in surprise, cheeks already deepening in their flushed state. "O-oh, um…thank you for those words, that's very kind of you."

Alfred moved his head closer so that they shared their breaths, expression still blank, tips of their noses nearly touching and causing the Guardian to sense his cheeks burning even more than before, and to cause the Briton to sputter in shock and alarm. "The pretty angel owns nice eyes." His voice sounded a bit like an American, and there was a faint smell between the filth and Hell stenches that smelled similar to grilled meat and the seasonings and juices left behind from that, faintly followed by something sugary and gentle. It was as revolting as Hell's disgusting odor.

He swallowed loudly; "Th-thank you, um…," he tried to back up and put distance between them, but the demon moved closer, "th-that's very nice of you."

"Does the pretty angel like me?" He tilted his head and gave a grin full of mischief.

"Uh, well," Arthur's hands fidgeted, eyes downcast at his golden sandals, "I...I haven't gotten the chance to become acquainted with you yet, so...there's not much for me to judge...and therefore, I can't say if I do or not. I'm sorry." The next thing he knew, he was roughly against the wall with claws digging into his upper arms, a growl filling his ears, and sharp teeth at his neck. "A—ah!" His legs squirmed for freedom underneath the body that cast his shadow over him. "W-what are you-"

"You should be careful with what you say," he murmured into him, nipping at his collarbone; the Brit whined in discomfort. "If you say the wrong things, it'll cost you your life." His tongue trailed up the side of the neck, and Arthur shivered. "Luckily, you're too pretty for me to want to harm anymore than I have. So, I'll let you go for now. But I won't let you go unmarked so easily next time…okay?"

His voice was low and husky, causing a chill to run up the angel's spine. "Y-yes. I'm sorry."

Alfred chuckled against his ear, and removed himself from his prisoner. "Better." He gave one last suck to the pale neck, causing Arthur to buck forwards in surprise and cry out in shock, head moving up unintentionally and giving the demon more room to assault. The skin that was under the Son of the Dark's power was pulled forward, teeth gracing over its surface harshly, with lips slurping quietly at it. Convulsions ripped through the angel's body, causing him to tremble as if he was seated in a blizzard. Pants for air slipped past his lips as he gripped the fabric of the bed tightly at a particularly rough suck before the mouth was gone, and the pale eyes returned to look into his shining green.

"All done," Alfred smirked, giving a lick of his lips with lowly-lidded eyes. "Red looks nice on you." With a dark chuckle and a correction of his posture, he turned and sauntered toward the door, tall and proud, his devil's tail flickering at his movements. Arthur was too shaken by the contact and rush of emotions to even move a muscle, save blinking and his heaving chest. The Son of the Dark glanced back at him with an evil-dripping smile. "I'll be back soon, Pretty Angel. Then you can be all mine."

When the demon opened the door and exited, shutting the exit behind him, that's when Arthur let the brick wall down and sobbed into open, cupped hands. Angels were never made out for lives like this.

x-x-x

Arthur had lulled himself into a deep sleep of exhaustion after hysterically weeping at his luck and misfortune for what seemed like years. He thought he would be a Guardian forever, living his days as a friend to the Royal Family and eventually becoming a strong, powerful, reliable angel. He had hoped to perhaps become an archangel like Michael, to interact more with those living than those dead. But now, he found himself in the sharp, sexually needy hold of a demon, and it terrified him to the bone. He hadn't been so afraid since he had died, and that was a truly petrifying experience: in the middle of the London Blitz, cowering with his cat pressed against him, abandoned, burning flames of terror against him before a bomb finally hit a target enough to burn him and his companions to death. Luckily, he had been ridden of the pain, and he knew the whereabouts of his pets, but that seemed like nothing compared to what he feared would happen to him in the future.

When he next awoke, eyes crusty from his fallen tears and sleep, he discovered a hand pressing against his face. Stomach rumbling, he weakly forced his eyes to crack open. He wished that everything before had been a dream, that he wasn't with an American demon named Alfred but with Yao or Matthew, and he had just slacked off for a bit unexpectedly. But not everything could come true, and the angel found himself under the hands of the demon. It didn't startle him, more unpleasant than anything, however he didn't show the feeling.

"Hello, Pretty Angel," Alfred greeted. When he smiled this time, his fangs poked out of his mouth. His hair was tamer than before, still riled but neater than it was when last seen, the strand of a cowlick he had recognized before sticking up in the air and somewhat defying gravity.

The Englishman opted for not speaking, making a small "Hm" with a gentle, slow nod to confirm that he had heard him.

"My Boss would like to see you. He wants to see what you can do, test your strength."

"'Strength'?" By now, Arthur had managed to shoo away the daze from sleep to concentrate on what the demon was saying. "Whot do you mean by that?"

"He wants to test your strength." His smirk seemed to grow, eyes gleaming in a way that made the angel suspicious.

"Yes, I know, but…could you be more specific?"

Alfred only grinned and stood up, holding a hand out for his captive; the Guardian angel sighed and let himself be helped to his feet. He didn't think that he was going to be informed any time soon.

"Alright then. I'll go along with you if I…absolutely have to."

His smile beamed by now, eyes closed in happiness. "Good." He pulled his hands from his back and held them out. "I need to tie Pretty Angel's hands now."

"I, I beg your pardon?" He took half a step back, eyebrows in confusion.

"I need to tie your hands together. Can't have you running off from me, can I? Some demons aren't as nice as I am- I know demons who won't hesitate to pin you to the grounds of Hell and rip you apart to shreds until you're bloody and numb and limp and barely able to support yourself." His smile, despite the gruesome description, stayed in place, not wavering in the slightest.

Arthur blinked in shock, and a bit of stubbornness shown through. "I refuse to be tied, no matter where it happens to be." He crossed his arms to show that he wasn't going to listen to Alfred, kidnapper or not.

The demon's smile faltered slowly and carefully into a tight line, eyes taking a dark glint that replaced the mischief, still swinging on the heels of his feet. "I don't know, Pretty Angel. Remember what happened last time you disobeyed me?"

The Briton winced, glancing down at his feet as his left hand rose up and rubbed the mark on his neck. The sucking had hurt something terrible, and felt so strange to him. His silence after a while was considered something positive to Alfred, who laughed and held his hands outwards, gesturing towards the rope.

A short while later, Alfred was flying, balanced in the air with the long of piece of rope tautly in his hand, and a hand-bounded Arthur walked under his shadow to what be his first lesson on demons and torture.


	3. Assault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some FrUK dub-con stuff in here. I apologize ahead of time.
> 
> Spoiler: USUK is the main ship oops.

Chapter 3:

Assault

Arthur quickly learned that when an angel now residing in Hell, demons hated you with what seemed to be every fiber within them. Although he had already figured they would, but he didn't know how extreme it would be until he was faced with them.

As he walked upon the destroyed road, scratching and scuffing the lower half of his body from the strips of lone barbed wire and sharp twigs, demons who either had noticed him, most likely sensed him, or seen the almost heavenly, gentle aura he held around him had jumped on him--quite literally. They leaped from where they were previously standing and tackled him, clawed hands grappling onto him as if he was a piece of debris in the water that would save them from the depths beneath them. Some snarled and tried to sink their fangs into him, the former Guardian only being saved by the tug on the rope Alfred had, keeping him high above their reach, or his own wings to help lift himself (if he wasn't shaking too much). The demon above him laughed loudly as the prisoner once again floated above the needy hands.

The Englishman noticed the two of them eventually coming along a large, glass-domed, circular building that reminded him of the Globe Theater back on the Surface. The Son of the Dark glanced back at him with a glint in his eyes. "Are you ready, Pretty Angel?" He smirked at him. The shaggy blond gulped but didn't answer otherwise; something about the look he had been given worried him about what would happen.

The two landed gently against the dirt floor, and the demon tugged on the rope roughly, causing Arthur to be tugged forward and fall into the dirt, face first. Alfred giggled as if he was a young child that had just received a surprise Christmas present. The Brit huffed as he situated himself back on his feet with a few flap of his wings.

"Don't worry, Gorgeous, you'll be alright in a few minutes~."

The angel simpered in thought, half-following, half-being-pulled along into the building and down a small corridor to a room. The stench of Hell grew even more intense with each step. "Um…Alfred?"

"Yes, Beautiful?"

His cheeks burned with an embarrassment he tried to hide. "W-what does your boss need me for?"

Alfred hummed to himself, and laughed. "He wants to see how strong you are~!"

"Yes, I understand that, but you aren't saying how, Alfred."

"Hahaha~! Oh Angel, you'll see what he needs you for~" He opened the next door they passed, cut off the long strand of rope but leaving the rest on his wrists, and gently pushed his captive inside. "You wait here, Beautiful; I'll be right back, okay~?"

"Wait, Alfred--"

The door closed silently in his face, letting a loose sigh from his lips. _At least I'm alone and not with those disgusting demons--_

"Arthur!"

A rough force rough suddenly tackled him, nearly toppling him if it weren't for a simple flap of his wings to keep himself balanced. He glanced down at what--or rather, who--had tackled him. "Feliciano?"

"I'm so sorry Arthur I'm such a sinner I'm never ever going to protect Italy's men ever again because I've failed everyone especially my brother and myself because I broke the oath of a Guardian and I'm so so sorry I never wanted this to happen but it did and I couldn't help myself because I had never felt like this before and I'm so sorry Arthur!" The young Italian burst into tears towards the middle of the sentence, clinging to the bound angel tautly as he sobbed his anguish out.

"Feliciano, calm down, please!" He begged, trying to nudge the other off of him. Luckily, the Italian considered what he was doing and backed away a bit. "Now--as calmly as you can--what are you so upset about, Feli?"

The young Italian sniffed, wiping his eyes with his thumb. "I fell in love with a demon."

Arthur's breath hitched and his heart quickened, but he forced himself to remain calm. "You, ah... You what?"

Feliciano inhaled through his stuffy nose with a nod. "Back when the Heavens were attacked, he cornered me and carried me here. I-I felt bad, though, because he took care of me while I cried because I hadn't seen Lovino in three days and he told me how he was looking for someone to love and how he thought I was so beautiful and then I started to cry because--"

"Wait, how long did you say you haven't seen your brother?" By now, the brunette was crying once again, this time much calmer but weeping silently nonetheless.

"Three days, since I got here." He rubbed his nose under his bare, thin wrist. "I don't know where Lovi was going, though; some mean guy was talking to him and dragging him away and he was screaming for my help." The tears started to fall rapidly once again down the tan face. "A-and—I-I only watched him and cried." Feliciano hastily shut his eyes and buried them from view. "I-I-I feel so bad…."

"Feliciano."

The two rotated around at the sudden, new voice. His hair was a mixture of grey and black, his horns pointed downward, nearly invisible unless focused on carefully. However, his fangs were barely seen from his mouth, and his eyes were a pale red, like the first usage of the red from a watercolor palette. His upper body was slightly filled up with muscles, and he had a simple tank top and jacket covering the rest of his pale body. Feliciano gasped and ran to the tall demon, wrapping his arms around his waist. The Son of the Dark enveloped the shorter as soon as they made contact, pressing a kiss upon his head.

" _Meine liebe,_ " he whispered into his ear as the shorter hiccuped into tears once again. "It's alright, I'm here." The cold eyes of the demon glanced up at Arthur, causing the blond to look away. "Did he harm you?"

"N-no, no, Ludwig, I'm fine," he sniffled. "I just miss Lovino."

Ludwig, the demon, sighed and bowed his head so that their foreheads touched. "You know I'm trying as hard as I can,  _liebe_ , but Antonio is a stubborn one. He too is looking for vhat I am looking for,  _und_  he's already attached himself to your  _bruder_."

"But Ludwig--"

"Shh, my beautiful Feli." He placed another peck, this time on top of his lips gently. Feliciano pushed against it, curling his arms around the demon's neck. Arthur flinched at their contact as he gazed at them out of the corner of his eye. The crazy, young Italian had dug himself a sinned grave, one beside this German-sounding demon. And it seemed like he wouldn't be coming out of it for a long, long time.

"Zere is somevun vaiting for you," the demon in front of him stated as he scooped his angel into his arms. "Just go zrough zat door beside you  _und_ you shall find it." Feli nuzzled into his neck, his familiar, bright smile upon his face, gentle and small. The Englishman nodded, and stepped towards the door.

This was it. This was the moment he had been dreading, ever since Alfred had appeared at the door. Would he die or live here? Would he be able to escape? Would he be permanently scarred, or maybe permanently banished from heaven? He wanted to go home, back to guarding the Royal Family with his two Yorkies and cat and sit watching the little kids--the orphans he was assigned to, or other kids from around the area--that Yao would watch over, entertaining them with stories and games he had grown up with. Arthur wanted to see the light again, not the dark. He wanted to see home.

But for now, he was stuck in black quicksand, and he was moving slowly to the bottom. And if he had to fight to the top again to free himself, he would fight.

x-x-x

When Arthur walked through the first door, he was greeted with a large arena-like stadium similar to the Coliseum, and by his grinning (somehow unconfirmed) master. Alfred beamed at him with squinted eyes and waved joyously, but there was something hidden behind it that made him stay on his toes, ready to strike. "Hello, Gorgeous~," he greeted kindly. "I have a surprise for you."

The angel blinked in confusion. "O-oh, well, that's nice of you," he decided his words carefully, cautious not to screw things up like last time and receive another painful mark.

"I know~!" Again, shut eyes and large smile that reverted back to normal quickly. "You have to go through doors today."

"Doors?" He raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

The demon nodded. "Mhm~! Not many, maybe five. You have to complete the Trials inside, and then the council will decide what to do with you!"

Arthur nibbled his lower lip. Well, not too bad. He had gone through the training for a Guardian angel, he would be fine…right? "How difficult are the challenges?"

"Easy! You should finish them quickly."

He let that sink in-- _oh please let that be true_ \--before he nodded. "And…what if I don't?"

Alfred cackled loudly, the first time Arthur had both heard and seen him do so, and it terrified him. His head was thrown back and he squinted, his voice ringing out around the whole globe. The blond shuddered; he regretted asking the question.

"Alright then…I'll suppose I shall get started."

Alfred gave another grin and the closest door to him opened. "Be careful, Pretty Angel~!"

x-x-x

_Trial 1_

The first room was completely covered in darkness, shading everything and barely containing enough light for the Brit to see in front of him. Even the aura he usually held was down. Arthur gulped; so far, he was hating everything about this.

Suddenly, the lights in the room were flicked on, and a demon sat in the middle of the room, in a large golden chair. His legs dangled over the armrests, his cheek resting on top of his knee as he watched the Englishman. The angel blinked back an exclamation of surprise, keeping his eyes trained on him.

"Um, hello," he greeted the perched Son of the Dark. He blinked with blood red eyes, showing no emotion. Arthur's hands fidgeted with the rope that bound his wrists together.  _Relax, Arthur, relax. Don't freak out, and maybe he won't kill you._  The Englishman bowed his head, eyeing his scratched feet; his left sandal had one of the bands that crossed over his feet had snapped. He'd fix that later. Maybe Alfred knew a (clean) lake or pond or the like to clean his cuts. Guardian angels healed quicker than the other angel ranks. But that didn't mean their cuts could become infected.

"You smell veird."

"Huh?" He looked up in alarm, emerald eyes wide with shock. He hadn't expected him to be conversing with him.

"You don't smell like ze ozer angels." His voice was rich in an accent equal to that of the Ludwig character he had met earlier.

"Oh...I apologize for not smelling like the others."  _That sounded so strange to say..._

"Why?" The demon blinked, a vacant look upon his features.

"Why...wh--"

"You're taking too damn long," he growled, eyes turning a darker shade and legs unraveling from their position, causing the angel to swallow his next words. " _Mein Gott,_  I had ze ozer angels out of here in a minute, and here you are, taking up my time to soak up my awesomeness."

"Awesomeness?"

" _Ja,_  so you better be pretty damn tasty or else I'll kill you." He strode up from his chair to the Englishman, pulling him taut against him and shoving his fangs deep into his bandaged throat.

Arthur gave a small yet muffled yelp when he had first been grabbed, but now he gave a nearly quiet gasp in surprise and to gain gulps of air. His toenails curled as he was lifted off the ground, bound hands in between their bodies and the toes of his feet barely touching the ground. The blood in his body rushed to the open spot as the sucking started, but then leaking up as it flowed past the path. Warmness spread around the bandage of his neck, most likely signifying that the blood that was being removed quickly was now sticking itself onto the gauze around his throat.

"Please…" he begged in a broken whisper. "Please, stop it--"

The demon grunted and continued to suck, only slowing down a little bit.

"A-ah…!" He leaned forward slightly, the corners of his eyes clouding with darkness. His legs wobbled beneath him, close to collapsing—darkness—pain—Alfred—

And the demon pulled back and held the drained, exhausted angel in his arms. He smacked his lips in what seemed to be satisfaction, and he smirked at the limp body in his arms, brushing away the stray strands of hair.

"Taste British," he whispered darkly into his ear. The blond trembled, lying limp in the arms like a ragdoll that had been thrown off a high shelf. The demon stroked his hair slowly as the door behind the chair opened. "Zink you can stand?"

The Brit glared at him, giving him a cruel answer with his eyes. The Son of the Dark laughed, and set his used prey on his feet, helping him stay steady on two. He pushed him in the right direction, chuckling under his breath.

"Good luck,  _ziemlich!_  Say ' _hallo_ ' to my  _freunds_  for me,  _ja_?" He cackled loudly at his statement as Arthur winced, wings hunched over his body as he slumped into the next room.

x-x-x

_Trial 2_

The next room, unlike the one before, was fully circular, filled with a scarlet light source from above, and containing a pacing Lovino in the middle of the floor. Upon hearing the door close, he rotated around quickly in alarm and spread his feathered wings out, but changed his expression to one of shock and surprise when he saw the weak Englishman stumble in as if he were a zombie.

"What happened to you?" The Italian demanded, examining Arthur from where they both stood. His hands trembled only slight, one currently having its fingertips nibbled on. He looked as if no visible, bodily harm had fallen onto him, but there was a nervousness that could be seen in his hazel-brown eyes. Lovino was strong, but it was clear that whatever he had gone through so far was already starting to tear him down.

Arthur breathed heavily as he dropped to his knees, wings draping over and hugging his body carefully. "That demon in the room before…," he panted. "If that's how all of them will turn out, then I would  prefer not to continue on."

Lovino crouched down beside him, and gestured to the bandages. Now that he was closer, Arthur noted that the Italian was, as far as he could see, unharmed aside from a scratch on top of his hand. "He did all of this to you?"

The Brit shook his head. "Back in the Heavens, when they first came…I got pinned to the floor and bitten…" He winced at the memory. "The demon that caught me bandaged me up, for whatever reason...though I am grateful that he did."

The unharmed angel sat up, intrigued by the mention of the attack. Arthur could already tell by the stare what he intended to ask, but instead looked around the room for any sign of another demon.

"How long have we been here?"

"Three days; do you know where my brother is?" The blond could see strong concern for the frailer, missing brother. Lovino looked about ready to break down in tears if he didn't get some sort of info on his younger and only sibling.

"I saw him before I started, though all I know is that he is unharmed and he left with one of the demons."

The brunette choked back the tears that swam just outside of his eyes. "I knew it, that stupid—" He placed a hand on his mouth as he let out a croaked weep.

Arthur took pity on the brother; he didn't feel it would be the right thing if he said that Feliciano had fallen in love with a Son of the Dark. Lovino wasn't a bad person either; he was just preferably grumpy. He deserved some sort of good news. "Although...the demon that is with your brother did say that he was trying to reunite you two."

Lovino had started to look at the other angel as he spoke, and let out a quiet sigh. He settled back down, appearing to be more relaxed than he was before. There was still a bit of anxiety upon his features, but it was not as bad as it was before. " _Grazie,_  Arthur. I..." He took a deep breath to soothe his most likely frayed nerves. "I'm not sure how I can repay you."

The blond smiled in return. "It's no problem at all. If I can help you in any other way--"

During the small speech, the Italian's eyes had wavered behind the other angel, and he now gulped in fear. "You have to fly."

"I'm sorry?"

"Get up." He stood up quickly, pulling the Briton up with him as well.

"What?"

"Go, fly, now!"

Arthur, in alarm upon hearing the stampeding hooves, stretched his wings out and flew up to the spherical ceiling. Lovino below him covered his head for protection as the bull halted just in front of the crouched angel. The Minotaur huffed, stamping his foot, before his scarlet eyes wavered up to the angel, who was leaning against the glass ceiling. With a grunt, the transformed demon quickly reverted to his "normal" form, a dark-toned, burgundy-eyed demon. He smirked up at the Brit floating above him.

"Well, look who came out to play," he sneered in a light Spanish accent, spreading his wings carefully and walking above the floor as if he was strolling on a platform only he could see. "You look so scrawny from down here. Judging by your nasty wounds, I can tell that you've definitely lost some blood, so you're probably weaker than you should be. Your hands are bound and useless, coming of no use to you at all." He glanced at Lovino on the ground, who was slowly twirling his hands around his wrists. "How long do you think it will take me to get to him, Lovi?"

The Italian looked up at Arthur, but otherwise didn't comment.

"Hmm~ let's see how fast I can make it to him, sí?"

The blond, without warning, dove down to the exit as quickly as he could, wings flapping wildly but his flight pattern unbalanced without support from his arms. Along with that, the Spanish demon was much quicker than he was, and sent the angel tumbling to the ground with a single ram to his head. Arthur grunted as the rope against his wrists was tugged downwards, making his binding tighter and most likely imprinting more onto him. The demon jumped up as soon as his prey was down, and towered over the weak, groaning angel. The pair of emerald eyes glared at the demon.

"What do you want...with the angels?" The Englishman breathed, eyes half-lidded as his body lay on its side in a half-completed fetal position, his hands resting beside his right leg that resided on the dirty ground. The Son of the Dark lifted a leg and placed his boot on top of his ankle harshly, digging the bottom into it. Upon contact, Arthur winced and tried to move to fix the uneasiness, but failed to do so.

"There's a war going on, Angelic Snob," he insulted the weaker one. "Can't you tell? The angel population is going down. Soon, you'll all either be too weak for life, imprisoned, or slaves."

The angel panted slowly, eyes nearly closing in exhaustion. But inside, he was screaming. What does that mean? What happens when the rest of the angel population are too weak, or formed into slaves like he was?

With a final glare, the Spaniard raised himself into the air and let himself drop his foot onto the blond, twisting it in a strange, most likely impossible way. Arthur let out a loud scream, but tried to stifle the noises soon afterwards.

"Antonio, stop it!"

Lovino rushed over and tugged the Spanish demon off of the Englishman, but was pushed away. The Italian balanced himself into the air to regain his footing. Antonio, the demon, bent his head down so that his curly black hair laid on top of his abdomen, before he hooked one of his curved horns into his garment. He dragged his head down, ripping not only fabric but skin, and not only causing tears, but cries as well.

That's when the healthier-appearing angel tried again and succeeded in getting his master to stop, as well as to focus on him. However, the demon shrugged him off. "Lovino, I can handle this, don't worry."

"Don't do that, Antonio, I don't like it," he commented. "You can't just hurt anyone who looks at you funny. You have to let some things slide."

"Not this, Lovi. This is different. This is my job--"

"No it's not, you're hurting an innocent angel!"

"This Feathered Devil is anything but good! He's scum, Lovino!" He glared at the trembling crying body. "And he should be treated as such."

He pulled Antonio's face to look at him. "If he's scum, then you can hurt me too! I'm just like him! We're both Guardian angels and we were both kidnapped from our safe haven! So if you want to hurt him, then hurt me too! Otherwise, you do not lay a hand on him!"

Arthur could only make out part of the conversation through the searing pain in his ankle. Lovino was…defending him? He wasn't sure if he was hearing correctly; all he could focus on was the searing burn from his ankle. How bad was his injury? Why was the room spinning? Why did he hear Alfred in his head?

_Sleep, Beautiful Angel, sleep. Just sleep._

Before he could drift off, however, rude and furious hands pulled him up and helped him balance on his twisted limb and joint. He cried out in pain, wings furiously fluttering in a frenzied panic to try and ease the harmful stabs that punctured his wounds. The Spaniard mumbled something, but Arthur was only focused on Alfred in his head.

_Come on, Pretty Angel, keep on walking. Don't stop. You can make it, right, Gorgeous? Haha~, I'm sure you can. Just a little bit longer, that's it, keep walking. First left, then drag your right. First left, then drag your right. Don't slow down, just keep on walking, come on, Angel. You can do it; I know you can._

The next thing Arthur knew, he was surrounded by darkness on a weak ankle, with the voice of Alfred gone and nothing to keep him company but the darkness.

x-x-x

_Trial 3_

"Hello?" He cried out weakly, keeping his balance as best he could on one foot and the tip of his injured one. Once again, the room was completely dark and he could see nothing in front of him. His labored breaths rang in his ear, the only noise he could make out. His used senses were focused on the pain, searing in his limb as if a knife was traveling inside, slithering around him and scraping his nerves. Swallowing to calm himself, he moved one step forward in a limp.  _No one's here. I feel like I'm blind, I can barely see. Where is everything?_  Even his glow, like before, had gone out for now.

One of the feathers of his wings stretched against his elbow, and he jerked forward in surprise, nearly falling onto his face if it weren't for his manic beating of his wings to keep himself leveled. He floated a few feet off the ground momentarily, both eyes and ears once again searching unsuccessfully for some sort of sign that he wasn't alone. When he didn't find one, he gently landed on the ground, sighing quietly in slight distress.

"My~, looks like ze brave  _ange_  was unable to defend 'is  _domicile_ , hm~?"

That's when a hand wrapped around his waist, earning a yelp of shock. As soon as it closed around him, he started thrashing around, throwing his hands against the arm that had been placed around him. His wings furiously flapped behind him, like the beats of a heart after a big race. Another hand, however, closed around him as well, holding him in place and restraining him to a large degree.

" _Non, non, non, beau ange_. You can't fight me now~, not when I 'old you in my arms."

"Let me go, please!" He ordered in a pleading voice. He shook as a hand tilted his head up by the nape of his neck, and a tongue licked lazily at it. "Pl-please; please, please! Just let me go!" He griped and writhed for escape once again.

"Let you go? Ohonhon~,  _mon cher,_  I assure you, soon you will be begging for me."

Arthur groaned as his body trembled from the smooth tongue and searching hands traveled around his neck and hips respectively. One arm kept him close to the demon as the other journeyed across his stomach vertically and down south, towards the end of his garment. The angel shouted in surprise as a hand ghosted over his freely uncovered (save his clothes) private parts, stroking over them through the small robe he had on. Luckily, it covered up his bum and what was in  _front_ , so he had some sort of protection.

Until the end was starting to be tugged up roughly and held aloft, showing off the member and beyond. The Englishman whimpered and whined as a hand grabbed him, stroking him to life and causing him to gasp at how his body was positively responding so suddenly. His thin hips thrust forward, brushing himself against the fingers that caressed him. He cried out in astonishment, jolting as his testicles were suddenly toyed with. His mouth opened to protest, but was suddenly blocked by the same hand that had wrapped around his waist, causing him to moan into it. The demon chuckled into his ear, nibbling on the lobe.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" The Son of the Dark whispered in an alluring tone.

"What are you...doing this for?" Arthur wondered in a hushed tone, knees suddenly feeling weaker just by one stroke to the organ.

"I need to test you,  _cher_ ,  _non?_  It is my assignment from my boss."

"W-who's your boss?" He cried out in pain as two fingers squeezed the tip, quickly bringing out a small amount of a strange, hot liquid.

"I 'aven't seen one like you,  _Anglais._  I am surprised;  _Mathieu_  and zat little  _ami_  of yours, Yao- oh~, zose two were  _tres magnifique_."

Arthur could only groan as the fingers continued to pump him roughly, back and—forth and—back and f—orth, oh God oh God  _oh God-!_

He cried out and leaned his head back, voice rising an octave or two higher than natural when a finger unexpectedly slipped against the organ's front, nudging around as much as he could before grabbing the rest of the shaft and tugging harshly. For a while now, he wasn't feeling anymore pain from this demon's actions, but pure pleasure that took him down into an abyss filled with nothing but silk smooth touches and accented words into his ears.

And suddenly Francis was no longer touching him, but Alfred's hand was traveling, brushing over his side and legs and face, and Arthur was suddenly screaming and moaning in pleasure even more than he already was. His master's hot breath breathed against his ear, warm and gentle and whispering to him in a kind intention but deep voice, " _You're so breathtaking, Beautiful Angel. Show me how much you serve me._ "

And with a scream of surprise at what he had imagined and heard, the pressure let up and out of the member previously being assaulted by the hand, the same warm fluid shooting out like water from a hose, continuing until it dripped down his legs and stained his robe and only stopping when he was left gasping. In exhaustion, he fell against the demon reluctantly, wings being tucked flush against his back. He struggled to catch his breath, gasping for air and trying not to be pulled into unconsciousness out of exhaustion. Who knew what could happen if he did, what with that…French demon lurking behind him. What if something worse happened to him?

"Mm, you are quite precious,  _beau_ ," he murmured in the Englishman's ear. "I zink I may 'ave a zing for zat scream of yours."

Arthur griped. "You're sick," he weakly managed to comment before being dragged by his arms (which seemed quite impossible at first and brushed his wrists roughly against his front) into the darkness even more. "H-hey...w-what do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, nozing, dear  _Anglais_. It iz just a minor chance in location fo' you. I 'ope to 'ear you soon, per'aps scream  _my_  name in ze possible future, hm~?"

Before he could reply to the comment, he was suddenly thrown across a small space into a dimly lighted room, bouncing only twice before he discovered he was not alone, and he could see who was present with him.

x-x-x

_Trial 4_

"Yao…?" Arthur, who was currently fighting off not only the searing stings in his ankle but was also struggling to stay awake, noticed that, like on his second trial, there was another angel in the room with him. There was no mistaking that glow and sixth sense that he had, telling him there was another. So he gently raised his head, and opened his eyes halfway.

And that's when he saw both his friend, and the demon that had captured him.

At first he had questioned Yao's presence, but the more closely he looked, he could see the long hair and detected the sweet, delicious smell of Asian cuisine he always seemed to carry on him. That was the only way he could tell it was his dear friend. "Yao!" He shouted when he told himself it definitely  _was_  Yao, and spread his wings and glided over quickly and closer. But he stopped a distance away, not just because of the demon, but because of his appearance.

Yao always liked to be very presentable and good-looking, meaning he hated physical work that involved dirt or the like if he was ever assigned a job out on the Surface. He had grown up in the cities of Beijing and Hong Kong, but his story of how he had died was a mystery. There have been rumors of him being a part of the first dynasty during Ancient China's time. Others have stated he had fought against a friend from Japan in the Rape of Nanking and had died in battle. Some have alleged he was part of the battle at Red Cliffs. All that anyone knows is that he was Yao Wang (or Wang Yao) of China, a panda-loving Guardian angel that protected all children, a picky eater with a big heart, and one of the best chefs in the Heavens.

However, in Arthur's place, to look at a friend as close as the Chinese angel was, it would not have been the same person. Or, rather, angel.

The first notable wound he had was his wings, usually fluttering gently, feather a creamy color, but now they were dabbed with scarlet and did not look so elegant anymore. They had grown to almost a brown color, and were drooping behind his back to his side. A litter of them lay dead by his side. His hair was still its normal, preferred length, but now it was matted at the top and tips with dried blood, blending in with his hair like mahogany in color. His porcelain skin was decorated with various cuts and bruises, his garment ripped up around his abdomen and dropping the scarlet-and-gold contents. His body was slouched forward, head leaning down and breathing a sign that he was currently unconscious.

Arthur would have cried in despair for his friend if it weren't for the demon that was suddenly standing above him.

"Herro," he greeted in a dark voice, blood red eyes glaring harshly at the imprisoned angel. Ebony locks draped over his eyes, seeming darker than the others' hair had been. "You must be Arthur."

"What are you going to do?" The blond wondered as he ignored the Son of the Dark.

The short enemy stepped closer to him, and picked the shaggy hair up through his halo before harshly tugging. The angel gasped loudly, resisting the urge to yank himself free. The demon was short, but his arm had enough power to have his knees buckling, ankles sliding on the ground and pulling out a scream. He griped as he was pulled over roughly, body dragged as his arms floated under his neck and he was dropped beside his friend's harmed body.

"I can't believe...you would do this to him." He took a few seconds to catch his breath. "He did nothing to you... He couldn't harm anyone, even if he wanted to start a fight, and you...you had to hurt him."

"It was my duty to catch him," he calmly stated, footsteps echoing around the bare yet not empty room. "Just as it was Arfred's to catch you."

He glared at the demon out of the corner of his eye, slightly turning his head as his cheeks flushed. "Why were you assigned that...'job'?"

"Because you and ozer angeric snobs do not deserve your rife at arr. So…we are taking over now."

"That's not at all fai _ahhh!_ " Before he could finish his sentence, the thin blade of a sword scratched down into his side, digging in about an inch of the way in, before pulling out. He inhaled as the pain swarmed around and poured out slowly into a puddle of scarlet and wheat, blending in as one.

"An anger's brood, as it has been said, has za power to hear any wounds. Is zat true?"

Arthur pulled in large gulps of air as he tried to sit up and crawl, his body not responding to him, and he found his eye connecting to a shoe, sending him flat on his back with pained moans.

"You sound quite vocar, Arthur. Though by your accent, it sounds as if you are British. I am sure you know your ranguage werr enough to speak it fruentry."

The Englishman, eyes shut tightly as a black bruised formed on his porcelain skin, felt a hand softly shuffle into his hair, stroking his face slowly and carefully. He gasped as the owner of said hand gave a grip and opened his mouth a bit to say; "Arthur...?"

"Y-Yao…," the bound angel sighed in relief. "Thank God you're up. I've been so worried."

"Arthur…stop fighting aru."

"Huh?" His head raised up slightly, good eye open, to gaze at the half-lidded gold eyes in astonishment.

"I try but he punish me for it. He will hurt until you no see anything but red and blue aru. And he do it so quick, it take second for you to think about what happened." The Chinese angel gazed into Arthur, and he could tell: Yao was mostly delirious. His eyes were too wide (wider than usual at least, and this time not in excitement or joy), and his face was paler than it usually appeared. "You no run anymore aru. You have to give up."

"Give up--I can't give up now, Yao. I still have to defend myself."

Yao gave what sounded like a sigh, and gazed at the demon without moving his head. "Kiku…do no harm to him, please. He no understand aru."

Kiku frowned at the long-haired angel. "Yao, so pure and divine…you do not see ze evir in anyone, and I rike zat about you."

He shut his eyes gently. " _A_ _rigato_ aru…."

"Which is why I cannot risten to you, my beautifur Yao. I have duties to furfirr."

Yao let a sob from his mouth, and covered his eyes with his hands in despair. Arthur's eyes widened.

Before he could protest, however, the nape of his neck found a thin slice against it before an outline of his wings was put onto his back. He let in a breath of air as the sharp edge traveled first up then down, curving downwards and completing by slicing off his hip like a snowball off a ledge. The same was done to the other, and before the blond could think, his hair was being tugged through the halo again, his ankle was knocked into the stone floors, Yao was screaming loudly, a mix of Chinese and English, and Arthur was thrown on his back into the next room.

x-x-x

_Trial 5_

"Hello again, Beauti--Angel!"

Arthur was sobbing when he was dropped into the next room, pain coursing all throughout his body as his blood spilled onto the ground. Footsteps sounded off beside him, and the angel knew he was beside him, was there to help him, and he didn't know how to deal with it. The weaker male let outa sigh before shutting his open eye and letting his body relax. When he felt his burning wrists become undone in a flash, he knew what was happening.

"Angel! Angel, stay with me, please!" Alfred pleaded as he scooped the angel into his arms carefully, holding him close and missing his injuries. The Brit gave a quiet start at the sudden movements, but settled back down against the warm arms. Any sort of demonic appearance Alfred had held was gone, and it made him appear to be more...human. 

"Y-your friends know how to torture an angel, don't they?" He whispered in a low voice, fixing a lone emerald eye into the pale red. He saw worry and fury mixed inside, and he felt something indescribable as their gazes continued to lock on each other.

"They're mean and horrible, Gorgeous, but I'll deal with them! I promise!"

"Just…don't harm any of the angels…please--"

"I won't, I promise--"

"...and stop the war while you're at it…"

"Angel? Angel, no!"

And then came the dark.


	4. Informed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't do hate things because those are bad and stuff. Yeah.

Chapter 4:

Informed

When Arthur next opened his eyes and regained his senses, Alfred was in front of the comfy bed while bandaging his wounds with a gentle, slow touch. The weak angel examined the demon's face with half-lidded eyes. He remembered the events clearly (an angel had a rather advanced memory span)--the attacking, the blood, the other angels, _Alfred_ \--and despite that, he wasn't as worried or nervous as he would've been if it weren't for the Son of the Dark that currently had sat himself beside him, wrapping up the cuts he had. He wondered to himself if this would be a normal thing for him: to wake up and see Alfred, and Arthur found himself not minding it as much as he would have. It was quite soothing and relaxing to see the placid, light scarlet eyes worryingly examine his body for any more injuries that he hadn't gotten to yet or had looked over by mistake. To see his eyebrows knitted in concern and his mouth in a flat line of concentration, the Englishman couldn't help but make a small little hum.

Alfred halted a little in his movements, took a few quick glances around, and finally looked over at the blond lying down. "You're awake!" He exclaimed, causing Arthur to wince from the slight yell and nod.

"Yes, I'm quite fine. Just a bit beaten, but I can survive," he assured him. He suspected anesthetics to be in his body right now; he felt as if he could fly above the ground, but he could also feel the heaviness and fatigue in his limbs. "I will admit, though, I feel a bit woozy right now."

"Those are the drugs in your body." A wide grin had risen onto his face, and Arthur suddenly felt anxious. "I had to repair your ankle a little bit and clean your cuts so I gave you medicine to help you feel better."

The green-eyed angel looked off into space. The way those scarlet eyes gazed at him sent little collections of happiness to flit inside his stomach and twist around like a tornado. That, mixed with the hurricane the drugs gave him, it reminded him of flying, in a way, back and forth and right and left and up and down and all over. "I feel…so  _weird_ …"

"Haha~ you're supposed to, Beautiful."

"Is it…magic?" This felt nice. He could stay like that forever if he wanted.

Alfred laughed, sounding less joyful than usual. "Ah, yeah. Sure."

Arthur continued to stare at the wall, before he turned his head and looked at his hostage taker. "Did you know, Alfred, that there are unicorns in Heaven?"

The demon tilted his head in confusion, but then he smiled small. "Of course there are. I bet they're nice."

Arthur shifted on the bed, eyes animated and a wide grin of joy on his face. "They are, and they're beautiful. Their manes are soft and white, and they have the nicest personalities ever~" Suddenly, his smile reversed itself. "No one ever believes me that they're there, though...no one gets it!" He pouted like a young child who didn't get candy. And he had a right to! The other angels were always saying how there were no such things as unicorns or fairies or that cute little mint-colored bunny that always used to snuggle with him. They  _were_  real!

The demon slowly stroked his hair with a smile. "Sleep, Beautiful Angel, sleep. Just sleep."

Despite how familiar the words sounded, he found himself slowly closing his eyes and drifting off into a world of dreams.

x-x-x

Arthur dreamed of Alfred for the first time.

He found himself kneeling in a burnt field surrounded by the horrid smell of scorched, rotten flesh and blood. Bodies of what appeared to be demons were layered around him and beyond where he looked. There was a mix of angels and demons on the ground, as well as parts of wings and bones and feathers (and a large amount of severed horns). Weapons were scattered on the ground, encrusted in blood and ornate on or through bodies, and a stench of death loomed on top of the scene as if in a collection of clouds. But he wasn't' affected by the scene at all. He felt rather peaceful, in fact.

The angel looked behind him as he detected light footsteps, and he could feel himself smiling as Alfred strode over to his side. And when the Son reached him, he bent down beside him and grinned softly at him.

"Hello, Beautiful," he greeted him, placing a gentle kiss on his hand as he picked it up to caress the fingers.

"Hello, handsome," he replied back, and although his dream self was having no difficulty saying the nickname, his reality self was screaming.

_I have no reason to compliment him, I...we're completely different races! We can't love each other--it's forbidden! I don't like him at all--I can't!_

But for some reason, his dream self wasn't panicking at all. In fact, it looked like Dream Arthur was…enjoying the affection. He enjoyed the gentle brushes of a hand, the sweeps of a lip against his forehead or either cheek. He shivered and cooed as a hand combed through his bush. He took the offered hand that assisted him to two feet again, feeling a slight bit more weight in his body than he was used to, but ignoring that fact and letting himself be tugged even closer than he was to the demon. And the whole time, Reality Arthur panicked.

_This is a dream, Arthur. That's all it is. You're just dreaming--hallucinating, even. I can't fall in love with him, it's forbidden—!_

"Do you wanna run away with me, Gorgeous?" He questioned the angel as he ran the side of his index finger along his chin, endearment in his eyes and care in his movements.

"I would love that, Poppet," he found himself whispering to him, and wrapped his arms around the neck in front of him. "As long as I'm with you, my world is perfect."

"Oh?" He quirked an eyebrow, but somehow, the angel could tell it was meant to be out of amusement. "Well, my world is you, and right now, there will be no flaws."

"How is it that a demon can say all the right things to flatter his lover?" His face was inches away from the Son of the Dark.

_LOVER?_

"Maybe because he has his feelings sorted out better than  _his_  lover." Tips of noses touched lightly, past brushing against each other.

"I take that as an insult." His smirk held nothing but joking inside its depths.

"Didn't I say?" He leaned in closer so his mouth ghosted over dream Arthur's, sending a chill throughout his body and a whimper through reality Arthur's. "You are my world, my eternal, my love. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

And suddenly, as they moved close enough to have their mouths together and open, Arthur in reality woke up from his dream.

x-x-x

Upon first waking up, he panicked and beat his wings frivolously in alarm, not knowing where he was until silk brushed against his fingertips. That's when he looked down and sighed in relief upon seeing he was back in the bedroom and not that horrid dream; anything was better than that right about now.

His fingers twirled around in the blankets that hadn't yet been used as a proper bed yet as his body finally relaxed, reclining softly into the pillows and blankets.  _That dream felt too real,_  he thought to himself as he yawned and started to daydream.  _I can't believe that happened to me…th-that doesn't mean I like him, does it?_  A light blush rose on his face, and he hid it as he shut his eyes and covered them with clenched hands.  _N-no, of course not. It was probably all thanks to those drugs he had given me. It's a sin to love the same sex--all angels know this, no matter what rank they may be. And I'd take a broken heart and being faithful than a loved heart and being sinful any day._

_But…what if it turns out to be true, that I really do like him as I dreamed? I never loved anyone but my pets and my country, and that has never changed. But am I willing to give my heart to someone and sell my life to stand side-by-side by this person like Feliciano did? He had smiled when Ludwig had decided to hold him. Lovino was able to stop that Antonio character. And Yao spoke as if his connection with…Kiku? He talked to him as if he had known him for years, like he was talking to me. I haven't heard anything from Matthew...but I doubt if that's how that sex-crazy demon treated me, I can't imagine how Matthew has been treated by his captive...if he's around. He's not a fighter like Lovino acts, or Yao when he wants to be. He's quite passive: if there's a fight going on, unless he absolutely has to, he's going to fight._

_This is all just too...confusing--I have to relax. I'm worrying too much over nothing. I don't know how my friends are doing, I don't know if they're alive. But I don't think I'll be able to make it for much longer. It seems like Feliciano and Yao both care in some way for the demon that kidnapped them. If that happens to me, if I fall in love just like Feli did…I'm not sure what I would do..._

"Beautiful?"

The door creaked slightly, as Arthur turned halfway to gaze at the demon peeking from a crack in the door.  _Just smile for him, Arthur. Just smile. Nothing's wrong, right? Everything is fine. Just smile._  The blond managed a kind smile. "Hello, Alfred," he greeted him politely from his spot.

Alfred grinned and walked to the angel fixing his position, closing the door and sitting in front of him in the chair he had been using earlier. "I'm glad to see you awake, Angel. You slept like you were dead, haha!

"O-oh, really?" His smile faltered slightly, but he sat up nonetheless. As soon as he did, however, he cringed in pain.

The Son of the Dark noticed it. "That was a really bad chest wound you have there from Antonio, Gorgeous. I'm glad you angels heal easily~!"

"Yes, well, although we heal quickly, it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt." He gave his chest, which was still covered with his small robe but was fixed up slightly, a gentle, cautious rub. "How long was I out?"

He shrugged. "Maybe two or three hours. I had to go back to the training grounds, beat the guys that hurt you, and get your test results."

At the mention of beating the other demons up, his cheeks turned a light tint of red, but he suddenly noticed there was a piece of paper in his hands. "Are those them?"

"Mhm~! I already looked at them, and they look pretty good."

The blond nibbled on his lip. Back when he was alive and still a student in school and university, he was the smartest in his classes. He rarely ever went below the highest grade, and even then he excelled in everything and graduated as the valedictorian of his class. He found himself studying on late nights at home while others hung out at a party or the like, but he was always faithful to his studies. So it wasn't much of a surprise for him to be nervously wringing his hands at the very thought of a test. Nothing changed much after death, it seemed. "How did I do?" Honestly, he felt he had done terrible. He wasn't able to prove much except for how much blood he could lose at once and how hurt he could become.

And to confirm his fears, Alfred grinned with squinted eyes. "You totally failed it!"

Arthur wilted forward, eyes downcast and expression hidden by his shaggy hair. Even though he had expected this, it was still disappointing to hear. He truly was a useles and imprisoned angel with nothing but a dying hope to keep him going. He wasn't worth anything--not even the status of a slave. And the fact that his hostage taker actually sounded happy about it made everything even worse than it already was.

"Well, not everything, though. Even though you have a low resistance to pain, you have really clean blood, and you can stay conscious for a really long period of time after you lose a certain amount,  _and_  you're compassionate to those that you've known for a long period of ti--Beautiful, what's wrong?"

The angel looked away. "Nothing, I'm fine. I just... There's something in my eye."  _Don't let him see you cry. Don't let him see you cry. Don't let him see you cry._  His hand quickly swiped under his eye. "It's…nothing, honestly."

The demon walked over to the bed and sat beside him. "Does it hurt?"

He nodded his head.

"You don't have anything in your eye, do you?"

The Guardian shook his head, and shut his eyes to try and stop the tears from falling. He failed to do so, however, and found himself with tear-stained cheeks and a scold to himself.  _You're only making yourself weaker than you already are._  "I'm sorry, it's just that…" He sniffed, and swiped his hand across his face. "I feel as if I've failed myself for not making an exceptional job."

A gentle hand ran under his chin and moved his face so that they were eye-to-eye, pale scarlet in emerald, and the latter resisted the urge to cry out in surprise because those eyes were so… "Don't leak, Gorgeous. You did really bad, but that's good for you."

"Why's that?" He sniffled. "All I did was harm myself and be attacked."

The demon gave a kind smile lacking evil but containing goodness of heart. "It means that even with the devilish influence you've gotten, you're still an angel."

And he didn't know why, but his heart fluttered at the words.

x-x-x

The Guardian and the Son sat in a comfortable silence. They didn't feel weird or awkward sitting next to each other (although the former's cheeks were on fire, it seemed, in embarrassment whenever the demon would say something flattering or blush-inducing), but otherwise it gave Arthur a bit more time to think about the situations at hand, especially about Alfred.

_I have never been in love. At least not something like this before. Even then, it was for inanimate objects. But despite everything else, I never had a human love. Maybe a crush now and then, but that was in my third year in grade school. Alfred is...interesting. He switches from giddy to mischievous quite often, and it makes me wonder where his head is. He seems…I don't know, psychotic? Insane? When I talk to him, it's like speaking to a child, and I don't understand why. And he seems to be able to change from personalities; he can be dark and villainous one moment, and then friendly and joyous the next, and it baffles me._

_But what irritates me is that dream that I had...I know I can't be in love with him, and yet I find myself thinking more and more about him. My stomach twists when he gazes at me as if I'm the most beautiful individual he's ever come across. He compliments my outer appearance, even though I may see it as atrocious and not at all special, and he grows defensive if I'm in pain... I assume he would like to care for me and make sure I am safe…but he's a demon, a Son of the Dark, the Devil's Child--a male no less--and it is against not only the Guardian's Creed, but an angel's as well: do not fall in love with your same sex, for it does not show the same and equal passions of a man and a woman, and will be considered sin._

…

_That's it. I can't love him. It's a sin, love between Angel and Demon. Therefore, it is not true. I am not in love, and if I were, it will not work. Feliciano and Ludwig may be able to make it possible, but I am otherwise unable to._

Alfred jumping up on the bed startled him out of his dream, and he gazed up at him as he stood on the covers, staring outside the barbed wire-covered window. "Beautiful! I just thought of something important!" He exclaimed, and held a hand out for the angel.

"Wot is it?" He wondered, catching his balance on the soft bed perfectly and standing on the tiptoes of his bare feet to gaze outside. The sky was a brilliant, deep, burgundy red, an everlasting sunset before transforming into a dark, blood red nighttime skyline. It was quite pretty once you got past the fact that it was rather freezing and there were hardly any stars out at what was considered to be night.

"See mountains straight ahead?" He pointed through the wire at a high, mountain-covered region, dusted with high peaks and what appeared to be caves transfigured into small homes.

"Yes, I see. What about it?"

"I live right on a big drop-off cliff thingy, and I was just thinking you're probably hungry or something or…need to have a bath or something, right?"

"Right…and?"

"Weeeell…let's go~!" He jumped off the bed by using his wings, and landed precisely on the ground, balancing on his feet perfectly. Arthur, however, pulled him back.

"Wait a tick, Alfred."

"Hm?" The demon turned around, a wide smile on his face causing his fangs to poke through and a shiver to draw up the Briton's spine.

"If you live up there, then...why did you bring me to this place? Wouldn't it make more sense to bring me to your home?"

The Son tilted his head in confusion, before giving another grin. "Well, because you didn't go through the trials, I couldn't take you anywhere except here, which is where all of the demons come with their captives once they pass into Hell. And because you failed the test, I get to officially be your caretaker now. Kinda like a master and slave, but better!"

Arthur cringed with a furrow of his brows, humming and shifting uneasily on two feet. "I, ah...I don't think that was a good example..."

"Sure it was! Otherwise, I wouldn't have said it!" With another sharp-tooth smile, Alfred grasped the angel's wrist and tugged him out of the room. "Let's go~!"


End file.
